Beneath the Bleeding. Val McDermidЧитать онлайн книгу.
on display. She would have put money on Tony sharing similar feelings. She cast her mind back to a previous occasion when she’d visited him in hospital. They hadn’t known each other well then, but she remembered it hadn’t exactly been a comfortable encounter. Well, if it turned out that he wanted to be left alone, she wouldn’t stick around. Just show her face so he’d know she was concerned, then bow out graciously, making sure he knew she’d be back if he wanted her.
Deep breath, then a knock. Then the familiar voice, blurred around the edges. ‘Come in if you’ve got drugs.’ Carol grinned. Not that bad, then. She pushed the door open and walked in.
She was immediately aware that there was someone else in the room, but at first she only had eyes for Tony. Three days’ stubble emphasized the grey tinge to his skin. He looked as if he’d lost weight he could ill afford. But his eyes were bright and his smile seemed like the real thing. A contraption of pulleys and wires held his knee braced in its splint at an angle that looked scarcely comfortable. ‘Carol,’ he began before he was interrupted.
‘You must be the girlfriend,’ the woman sitting in the corner of the room said, the accent faint but recognizably local. ‘What kept you?’ Carol looked at her in surprise. She looked to be a well-preserved early sixties, doing a good job of keeping the years at bay. The hair was skilfully dyed golden brown, the makeup impeccable but understated. Her blue eyes held an air of calculation, and the lines that were visible did not speak of a kind and generous nature. On the thin side of slender, she was dressed in a business suit whose cut raised it above the average. Certainly well above what Carol could afford to pay for a suit.
‘Sorry?’ Carol said. She wasn’t often caught on the back foot, but even villains were seldom quite so blunt.
‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Tony said, irritation apparent. ‘She’s Detective Chief Inspector Carol Jordan.’
The woman’s eyebrows rose. ‘You could have fooled me.’ A thin smile, entirely lacking in humour. ‘I mean about the girlfriend part, not about you being a copper. After all, unless you’re here to arrest him, what’s a senior police officer doing sniffing around this useless article?’
‘Mother.’ It was a snarl through clenched teeth. Tony made a face at Carol, a mix of exasperation and plea. ‘Carol, this is my mother. Carol Jordan, Vanessa Hill.’
Neither woman made a move to shake hands. Carol fought back her surprise. It was true that they’d never spoken much about their families, but she had formed the distinct impression that Tony’s mother was dead. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Carol said. She turned back to Tony. ‘How are you?’
‘Cram-jammed with drugs. But at least today I can stay awake for more than five minutes at a time.’
‘And the leg? What are they saying about that?’ As she spoke, she realized Vanessa Hill was packing her laptop away in a bright neoprene case.
‘Apparently it was a clean, single break. They’ve done their best to stick it together …’ His voice tailed off. ‘Mother, are you going?’ he asked as Vanessa rounded the end of the bed, coat over her arm, laptop slung over her shoulder alongside her handbag.
‘Bloody right, I’m going. You’ve got your girlfriend to look after you now. I’m off the hook.’ She made for the door.
‘She is not my girlfriend,’ Tony shouted. ‘She’s my tenant, my colleague, my friend. And she’s a woman, not a girl.’
‘Whatever,’ Vanessa said. ‘I’m not abandoning you now. I’m leaving you in good hands. A difference that will be apparent to the nursing staff.’ She sketched a wave as she left.
Carol stared open-mouthed at the disappearing woman. ‘Bloody hell,’ she said, turning back to Tony. ‘Is she always like that?’
He let his head fall back on the pillow, avoiding her eyes. ‘Probably not with other people,’ he said wearily. ‘She owns a very successful consultancy business in HR. Hard to believe, but she oversees personnel decisions and training in some of the country’s top companies. I think I bring out the worst in her.’
‘I’m beginning to understand why you’ve never talked about her.’ Carol pulled the chair out of the corner and sat down next to the bed.
‘I hardly ever see her. Not even Christmas and birthdays.’ He sighed. ‘I didn’t see much of her while I was growing up either.’
‘What about your dad? Was she that rude to him?’
‘Good question. I have no idea who my father was. She’s always refused to tell me anything about him. All I know is that they weren’t married. Can you pass me the remote control for the bed?’ He dredged up a proper smile. ‘You saved me from another day of my mother. The least I can do is sit up for you.’
‘I came as soon as I heard. I’m sorry, nobody called me.’ She passed him the remote and he fiddled with the buttons till he was half-upright, wincing as he settled. ‘Everybody assumed somebody else had told me. I wish you’d let me know.’
‘I knew how much you needed a weekend off,’ he said. ‘Besides, there’s only so many favours I can call in and I thought I’d rather save them for when I really needed them.’ Suddenly his mouth fell open and his eyes widened. ‘Oh shit,’ he exclaimed. ‘Have you been home or did you go straight to the office?’
It seemed an odd question, but his manner was urgent. ‘Straight to the office. Why?’
He covered his face with his hands. ‘I am so sorry. I forgot all about Nelson.’
Carol burst out laughing. ‘A nutter smashes your leg with a fire axe, you spend the weekend in surgery and you’re worried about not feeding my cat? He’s got a cat flap, he can go and murder small animals if he gets desperate.’ She reached for his hand and patted it. ‘Never mind the cat. Tell me about your knee.’
‘It’s wired together but they can’t put a proper pot cast on it because of the wound. The surgeon says they have to make sure that’s healing properly, that it’s not infected. Then they can put a cast on it and maybe I can try to move around with a walking frame by the end of the week. If I’m a good boy,’ he added sarcastically.
‘So how long are you going to be in hospital?’
‘At least a week. It depends on how good I get at moving around. They won’t let me out till I can get about with the walking frame.’ He waggled his arm. ‘And probably without the intravenous morphine too.’
Carol grimaced sympathetically. ‘That’ll teach you to play the hero.’
‘There was nothing heroic about it,’ Tony said. ‘The guys who were trying to drag their mate out of there, they were the heroes. I was just the diversion.’ His eyelids fluttered. ‘That’s the last time I work late.’
‘Do you need anything from home?’
‘Some T-shirts? That’s got to be more comfortable than these hospital gowns. And some pairs of boxers. It’ll be interesting to see if we can get them over the splint.’
‘What about something to read?’
‘Good thinking. There’s a couple of books I’m supposed to be reviewing on my bedside table. You can tell which ones they are because they’ve got Post-It notes on the covers. Oh, and my laptop, please.’
Carol shook her head in amusement. ‘You don’t think this might be a good opportunity to chill? Maybe read something frivolous?’
He looked at her as if she was talking Icelandic. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t think anybody’s expecting you to be working, Tony. And I think you might find it’s not as easy to concentrate as you imagine.’
He frowned. ‘You think I don’t know how to relax.’ He was only half-joking.
‘I don’t think that. I know it. And I understand, because I have similar tendencies.’